


I Died the Day You Disappeared, So Why Would You Be Welcome Here?

by yas_m



Series: You Still Pull Me Home [3]
Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Honesty, Hurt, Trust, people talking about the things that are bothering them, post episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 12:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5785354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yas_m/pseuds/yas_m
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 1x10, and Jane's reveal of the truth. Kurt and Jane are forced to spend the night camping together on an op. And there's an elephant in the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Died the Day You Disappeared, So Why Would You Be Welcome Here?

“So, just to be clear, you report to a polygraph twice a week, and you meet with Dr. Borden three times a week. No more sneaking out. You need something, you need to go somewhere, you tell your detail, or anyone from the team,” Mayfair’s voice was stern, unrelenting, “and we’re moving you to another location, and we’ll keep moving you every two weeks until we’ve found this guy.”

Jane had told them everything that had happened to her, from the abduction, to the torture to the mysterious rescuer and the revealing video. She’d considered lying, that was what Oscar had suggested, but i the short time she’d been part of this world, she knew one thing for certain, she could trust Kurt Weller, and by extension his team. So she went for the truth, even if it meant she would lose his trust once it had been exposed. 

Mayfair continued breaking down her new list of conditions with regards to keeping Jane part of the team, something she had not expected would happen. It was a strict set of regulations, but it was better than being locked up in a cell, which was what Jane had initially expected.

“Is everything clear?” Mayfair said once she’d exhausted her list, arms crossed over her chest. Jane nodded, “yes, ma’am,” she said, still in shock she wasn’t being led away into a maximum security prison right then. “Good,” Mayfair said, “report to your detail and head on back home. Get some rest. I expect you back here at 0700.” Mayfair turned to the rest of team gathered around the conference table. “Everyone else as well, go home and back here tomorrow morning. Things just got way more complicated,” she said and everyone got up to leave without a word, without questioning her decisions. “Weller, I need you to stay here for a few more minutes,” she said, and he half expected her to, unable to hide the disgruntled look on his face the entire meeting, unable to meet anyone’s looks for the past two hours.

They silently waited for the rest of the team to leave and once they were gone, out of the room and out of ear shot, Mayfair turned to him, “have a seat.” He fell into the seat, a heavy thud, a grumpy frown etched on his face. “You have problem with my decision,” she said. 

Kurt Weller may be a hard man to read, but he was slowly realising there a handful of people who could read him like an open book. Bethany Mayfair was one of them. Weller crossed his arms and sulked further into his seat, more like a disgruntled teenager than an FBI special agent. “If you have problem with it, you can talk to me, you know,” she added.

“Would I be able to change your mind?” he asked and she just shook her head, “you’re the boss,” he mumbled.

“That’s true,” she replied to his slight insubordination, moving to sit next to him, “Kurt, I know recent events, and recent discoveries have given you much reason to not trust, to not trust my judgement, but I need you to try and look at this objectively, try to look at it from my point of view, not from yours.”

Weller sat in silence for a moment. She was right, he knew it, but it was his name on Jane’s back, not hers. “Do you want to be taken off the case?” her question came as a shock to him. She wasn’t actually offering him this again, was she?

“You know that’s not an option, especially not now,” Weller said, “my name’s on her back, for one reason or another, it’s there and we both know that is still as much a mystery as any of her other tattoos. Now more than ever,” he said.

Mayfair nodded, “then what’s the problem?”

Weller huffed, a dry laugh escaping his throat. Was she really going to make him say it?

“The problem is… my name’s tattooed on her back. My name. She chose me. She picked me for a reason. She… used me,” he finally confessed, looking away unable to meet her gaze.

“That’s not-“ “That’s exactly what it is!” he snapped, the anger at this revelation, the anger he’d been burying for the past twenty four hours finally coming to the surface.

“You don’t know that for sure, maybe there’s another reason,” Mayfair tried to calm him down.

Weller got up, pushing his chair back harder than he’d intended, “Well, I guess we’ll never know now,” he said as he headed for the door.

“Weller,” Mayfair called after him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here at 0700,” he said, “I guess I’ve been woven into this case forever, whether I like it or not.” 

Two Weeks Later

“The drop should happen anywhere between the next thirty six to forty eight hours,” Patterson explained as Weller and Jane continued to pack supplies into their bags. “The chopper will drop you down here,” she said pointing to clearing not he map, “you’ll need about eight to twelve hours to hike to the drop location, depending on the weather,” she added, “and if you need to camp out, there are these three locations, they’d be safest to spend the night without being noticed.”

“Are you guys ready?” Reade asked walking into the room, Weller and Jane nodded. “Good, plane’s ready. Be careful, you guys.”

The ride to the airfield was quiet, as had been most of their alone moments lately. It wasn’t because either of them was pushing the other away. It was just the way it was, quiet, awkward, filled with so many questions neither was ready to ask, neither ready to hear the answer to. They settled into the plane, side by side, the silence still the most prominent presence between them.

If Jane hated flying during the day, she realised she very much despised it when it was pith black outside. Her fingers dug deeper and deeper into the arm rest, pretty sure she was leaving permanent indentations in the leather. Weller heard her gasp, her breath shaking as she gripped the arm rest even tighter, could feel her shake next to him.

I know you’re pissed, and you have every right to be, but you don’t need to be an ass to her. She’s still the same Jane from last week, the same Jane you’ve been making stupid love struck eyes at, he recalled Zapata’s words from earlier that week. They’d been out drinking after work, and if he wasn’t just a bit drunk, and if she hadn’t been absolutely right, he’d given her a piece of his mind. But he knew she was right. Of course she was right.

He shut his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath, the utter fear she was feeling breaking at the last bit of his stubbornness. Silently, he reached over, grabbing her hand gently in his. Keeping his eyes fixed ahead, still not ready to turn and face the fear in her green eyes, knowing that would be the last straw for him, making him reach for her and wrap her in his arms, he squeezed her hand softly, calmly and squeezed back.

She turned to him, knowing he won’t meet her gaze, but seeking the comfort in just looking at his face. It was a huge step forward in their somewhat frayed relationship. A lot had changed in the past two weeks, most it being in the relationship between her and Kurt. She knew when she kissed him o note sidewalk all those evenings ago, that things won’t be the same again, but this was not what she had in mind. Too many nights since then she’d taken comfort in that memory, of the brief moment when all else ceased to exist, all the rules enforced on them by their situation, the baggage and history, the boundaries, all the flashing lights that there was a line they should not cross, that moment when they were just them, Kurt and Jane, two people giving in to an undeniable attraction, two people falling victim to and inexplicable link and pulling them to each other, a force stronger than either of them and both of them.

They spent the rest of the flight in silence, again, but he never let go of her hand until they’d landed, and once on the chopper, he’d again taken her hand in his, even before they were airborne. A short trip and they were in the woods, an eight hour hike awaiting them, a hike also mostly spent in silence, bar the necessary conversation. But then came the most dreaded part of the mission. Night time, having to make camp and spend the next handful of hours alone. Together.

They chose one of the locations that Patterson had identified and Kurt was quick to start a fire. Jane on the other hand busied herself with getting some of their supplies out of her pack. It wasn’t exactly gourmet meals, but it was basics that would get them through the next part of their mission. She prepared two portions and walked over to him, silently handing it to him. She sat down next to him, not too close but not exactly far away. They ate quietly as the darkness landed around them.

“If you want to sleep, I’ll take the first watch,” Jane said when she saw him yawn.

“It’s ok, I’ll take the first watch,” he replied.

“No, really, I’m fine to-“

“I got it,” he replied curtly, shrinking back slightly when he saw the hurt look on her face.

“You don’t trust me anymore,” she said after a moment, hurt evident in her voice, but also a stubbornness that was always there.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he replied.  
“Because Mayfair ordered you to,” she argued.

“I could’ve walked away from the case if I wanted to,” he said, turning their argument into a obstinate bull fight.

“Why didn’t you?” she countered.

“Because you put my name on your back!” he said, his voice rising slightly into the thick night.

She pulled back at that, suddenly out of ammunition in the conversation.

They sat quietly then, again, before he looked to her and asked, “Why me?”

His question took her aback. She’d been expecting it. From the moment she told them about the video, she’d expected that to be his first question for her. And even then, even after weeks of preparation, she still had no answer.

She shook her head then. “I don’t know,” she whispered her admission.

He huffed and looked away, staring into the fire in front of him. “Was it like with the Russians?” he asked, “did you study me? Look for my weaknesses? Figured out how to get to me? What the easiest way to get to me was? To use me for your endgame?” he accused her and she could only shake her head at it.

“No, no, Kurt, I…” she said, “I…”

“You don’t know,” he finished her thought for her, “I know… you don’t know.”

“Kurt,” she urged with him, begged him to turn to her, to look at her and see how sincere she was.

“Does he know?” he asked her then, finally turning back towards her. And she didn’t need to ask who he was. “Does he know why it’s me? Does he have a file on me somewhere? Pictures of my family? Psyche reports? Career history? Did you spend hours with him vetting me? Planning how to turn me into your puppet?”

His words were hateful, laced with anger and heart ache. But she knew Kurt Weller had no malice in him. She knew Kurt Weller, not because she’s studied him and analysed him. She knew Kurt Weller because she knew the man in front of him. Because she’d gotten to know him for who he truly was. And she knew that no analytic study of him, no rational vetting and research will allow anyone to know him like she knew him now.

“Kurt,” she said gently, her voice calm, soothing, as she silently prayed that she would be able to get beyond his walls get beyond the hurt and pain she’d caused. 

“Kurt,” she said again and moved slightly closer to him, “I don’t know why she chose you. I don’t know what process she went through to pick you, to single you out or to decide that it was your name that needed to be tattooed on her back or why you were the only person who should handle this,” she spoke tenderly, “but if it were me, if I had this secret, this burden to carry, this devastating truth that I needed help carrying, that I needed someone to share it with me, then I’d still choose you. And it’s not about your past, or your demons, or manipulating you or using you. That’s not what this is about, Kurt, not at all.”

He listened to her intently, taking in her every word and she moved even closer to her. “I would choose you Kurt because you are honest and trustworthy. You’re sincere and righteous. You work harder than anyone I’ve ever met, and I know I’ve not many people in my time back in this world, but I can already tell there are not many like you. You’re a good man, Kurt, a genuinely good man. You don’t stand for injustice, or corruption. You’re a man of your word, your incorruptible, you’re kind and caring.”

He kept silent during her confession, and when she reached for him, he didn’t pull back, allowing her to hold his hand in hers. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but if I had to do this again, and again and again, I know in my heart, that it would always be you that I would choose to do this with. I cannot imagine anyone else. And I’m sorry that you were thrust into this without your consent, I’m sorry you're a victim in all of this, but you have to know the you’re the right man for the job. No one else would be able to do it.”

He squeezed her hand then, twisting his palm in hers and intertwining their fingers. “I wouldn’t want any one else by my side through this,” she confessed.

At that he closed the gap between them, sitting shoulder to shoulder with her and smiled, softly whispering to her, “there’s no where else I’d rather be, either.”


End file.
